Asthma Attack
by A Kiss With A Fist
Summary: Pac-man is not just a game to be played. Not even Bella considered it to be the ticket to the heart of the beautiful, cocky, nerd emo boy Edward. Sparks fly, curiosity flares and romance binds two unique people. Not your typical Bella and Edward story.
1. Bring it Cullen!

**Say hello to this new and adorable story. This is going to be very fun to write and I'll enjoy it a lot. **

**Title - **Asthma Attack.

**Chapter One - **Bring it Cullen.

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To say I was unwilling was an understatement of the century. Who in their right mind would possibly want to attend a new high school in your Junior year? I can count my lucky stars and just be satisfied that it isn't my Senior year. Being nervous wasn't the reason behind my reluctance of going to my new school but rather having to attend a school with people whom never stepped foot out of this safe, dull town of theirs. I am not judging without know, of course I wasn't doing _that_. I am the type to be subjected to those judgmental ideals. You see, for I have visited this town ever since I was ten - except for the following year, when my friend dragged me along with her to her dwelling in Florida - and knew what the people were like here. Boring. Lifeless. Down right _superficial_. The one thing I did not fully understand is how my mother - her, of all people - could think that I would enjoy it in this town. I, Bella Swan, am not a force to be reckoned with. I will show these ignorantly happy people how to live, that is my mission.

I told my mother of my plan to blow the socks of these simpletons and she, like always, rolled her eyes at my detailed plan. She then continued to say that I need to grow out of this phase I am in to rebel. My mother doesn't understand my mind, the way I work and how I function. She, unlike any other simpleton, does obtain a creative tweak in her mind. I was just a result of that little tweak spiraling out of control until it hit rogue mode. I'm proud to admit that fact. My mother is just in denial of the fact she posses any individuality at all. Denial.

In a small part of my mind I had to admit that I was slightly scared of the unknown. I am very different from others, as I choose to be. I clung to the shred of hope that someone maybe – just maybe – had my track of mind. Maybe like me? I haven't came across anyone such as that. The hope still drags on and on and on...The strong lyrical voice of Linkin Park yanked me from my crusading thoughts.

"_I will be waiting with a song in my soul. A fortunate weakling which I have foretold."_

Amen Chester, amen.

I sighed, exasperated and got ready for school. I would have to say I have a unique since of fashion. It is some what different but simple. I dress in a casual black dress but jazzed it up with ripped, purple tights. Adding a black bow in my chocolate brown hair and – of course – combat boots. Any one who comments negative comments on my boots get a piece of my shit kickers can _really_ do. Full effect bitches.

I stumbled do the stairs; I was trying to shove papers in my bag while shuffling down the stairs. My bag was covered in goofy and sarcastic buttons on them, containing sayings as: _Don't make me go psycho-bitch on your annoying ass, Silence is golden but tape is better and – _my favorite one – _You laugh because I'm different but I laugh because you are all the same._

I would prefer to stamp all the comical sayings on my car bumper but my mother is not having the, it's a no-no in this town apparently. Gag me with a spoon, please? The only one I have on there is a bright neon-green that says: _Oh, I'm caught in a vortex of unspeakable evil. And you?_

That is all I am allowed to have. But she doesn't know what collage I did on the inside on my closet door yet, I hope she doesn't go look for those ribbons I stole from her before we left. I reached my grooving drunk, who I call Pumpkin. Not for its color, it is really a reddish color, but I feel that the personality of this truck obtains the soul of a pumpkin.

I patted Pumpkins hood as I circled around him to the drivers door, blowing a kiss at that beautiful bumper sticker of mine. It was like Pumpkins tattoo and she has the attitude like mine, so of course she loves it. I ascended in the cab of Pumpkin, shutting the door lighting. I had to be delicate with her, for she _is_ old. Not that I would admit that to her. The CD player on her was busted; which was unfortunate. I placed the ear buds in my ear and blasted them of full blast, tapping the wheel as I back out from the driveway. This time I turned it to Muse, cranking it up even more when my song came on.

The high school was easy to find; all I had to do was follow the other teenagers from my street. I just ignored their glances and twisted mouths when they spotted Pumpkin an me. I resisted the urge to flip them off, at least people at my old school were used to me. I sighed, knowing today is going to be a bit different than what I planned.

The parking lot was almost filled when I arrived behind someone sporting a beat up Ford truck. I descended from them when I towed my truck to find an open spot, hoping for one near the door since it started a light drizzle. Once settled in a place I stepped out from Pumpkin, lightly patting her dashboard before I left.

The day passed uneventful. The simpletons were just as I suspected – boring, normal and not original at all. At lunch I gave up on trying to find a peer like me, I even sat by myself today. Politely declining anyone who offered a seat to me. I didn't even cast glaces around in the lunch room, already bored with the intellect of these people. I couldn't complain much with some people, like Angela. She was a sweetheart and seemingly different but I even declined her offer.

Biology couldn't come fast enough. Not that I particularly like it just that it's the second to last class of the day and I heard we have a sub for that class today, so more time to myself. I decided to escape the remaining time of the lunch hour. I gathered my half-eaten food, deposed of it and made a dash to the hallway connected to the Biology room.

In my mad dash, I collided with someone in the silent hallway, their bag coming up to slice my face with its zipper. Papers twirled like sun flakes around me and my poor victim and I swore under my breath at the gash on my cheek.

"Oh my god," I heard a quiet voice to my left gasp. I sighed, not bothering to look up but just pick papers up. I didn't check to see whose was whose. "A-are you all right?" The quiet voice whispered, it was twined with guilt.

I continued to pick papers up and smiled, raising my head an inch so he could she the gesture. "It's quite fine, It was my fault entirely. God should be jailed for letting _me _have legs, all I do is trip over thing and," I finally looked at him. "Other people." I motioned toward him.

Once I glanced at him, his hands started to operate. He shuffled the papers together much like I had, not even bothering to check if they were his. I started to grab at a stray piece of paper I missed and are hands knocked together, much like I had did to him a moment ago with my body.

I finally looked at him, I mean finally _seen_ him. He wore a pouting expression mixed with a guilt ridden crinkle in her eyes. His hair was sort of a bronze color, unkempt and sticking up in all directions. He wore slick glasses that framed his face and had pouring green eye that were now devouring mine with his gaze.

Oh. My. Flipping. Pancakes.

All I could think to do was offer my fist full of papers to him; I couldn't think of anything to say to him. He looked at me too fast, if that made sense. He took the papers into his hand and gave me his hand full of papers. I reached around him to grip my bag and was relived when I had to shove the papers in my bag, therefore breaking the gaze.

I felt movement of him standing and I automatically did the same, it was more of scrambling on my part. I glanced up at him after I did. He was much more taller than expected, his form seemed to tower over me. He held one strap of his bag with both bands, curiously staring at my buttons pinned to my bag. I blushed and looked at my booth, scuffing the floor.

Then I only realized I had been wounded in the fatal crashing.

"Shit," I swore. I released my bag with a thud onto the floor and placed my fingers on the gash. I could feel the wetness of blood on my fingertips and groaned.

"No, no," came the same quiet voice from before but louder. He caught my hand and placed it to my side, examining my face. "Let me take a look at it." His face was serious, just like before but I couldn't crane my neck to see if his eyes were too guilty for he had his hand on the top of my head.

I felt his warm touch leave my cheek and seen his hand shuffling through his bag, I noticed the letters 'P' and 'A' on his bag but couldn't see the full logo. He pulled out a band-aid. Hm. That was strange to keep in a bag I suppose.

He placed it on my cheek and went down to eye level with me. He smiled, it was lopsided? Lopsided but brilliant. Never have I seen such an uneven smile or a beautiful one.

"I'm Edward." He announced, the guilt gone from his eyes.

"Bella," I stated. "Now, Edward," I said, planning to go back to my normal self and not let this boy distract me from my plan to rock this school and become shy. "Do you always welcome new student with a polite body smacking? Or is it a new form of handshake you crazy kids are preforming these days?"

He smirked at me, which was even more beautiful than the grin. "Handshake? I was under the notion you were trying to molest me." He crossed his arms, glaring.

Then the bell rang, where he jumped and I stood, unmoving at the violent ringing. I glared back at him and his cocky ass smile. We stood there challenging each other while students rapidly ran through the hallway around us. I raised an eyebrow at him and he just chuckled at me but now humor was in the sound.

The warning bell that we had one minute left to get to class sounded. I huffed at him and flung my hair in his face, and descended to class. I heard a low growl from behind me. What the hell does that mean? After he was out of sight I started to run to class in fear I would be late on my first day. The only reason that I hate for being new is that I don't know where the freak the classrooms are. I made in through the door in time, smiling despite myself.

There in fact was a sub, I stated my name and that I was new. He told me that my former teacher had written about me and wanted to place me beside a kid with the last name of Cullen. I waited patiently for him to get everything together; he seemed flustered.

"Okay everyone," his face glued to the paper. "This is your new classmate Isabella Swan-","Bella." I corrected him. He nodded and continued. I didn't listen to the babble until he got to the part of whom I was sitting next to. "Mr. Cullen, please raise your hand." I scanned the room and stopped when I saw the one I was looking for.

No fucking way. This could not be happening. Really God, really?

There, by my seat, was Edward smirking at me with his arms crossed. This is going to be interesting. I put my poker face on, ready for attack. Bring it Cullen. I walked proudly to the table, trying to brush of the fact that I almost lost balance.

Sitting down beside him I could feel the holes being burned in to the side of my face. I shot him a glare and he laughed quietly to himself. The sub continued to be flustered, I grew tired of watching his attempts and pulled out my game boy. Was I too old for this toy? Hell no. Ever since I was six I was determined to beat the high score of father at this game and failed for the past 11 years.

The volume of the game was already turned down, I had to keep it low while on the plane ride here. I started along the journey of what is Pac-man Advanced, devouring those little white dots and ghost that came my way. I heard a snort from my side and peered to see Edward shaking his head down at my game. I nudged his knee with mine and flipped him off under the table.

"Aren't you a little to old to be playing with that thing?" he asked. "I had one when I was about ten than had to throw it away after my brother played hockey with it."

"There is no such thing as being _to old_ for a game such as Pac-man, it is pure gaming gold." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Why are you playing that?" His expression turned to curiosity, like it did in the hall.

I paused the game and faced him. "Why do you ask so many questions?" I retorted.

"Why are you so annoying and not answer my question?" He grinned.

Damn pretty boy. " My dad has the high score on this game and it has been my life goal to beat it."

He chuckled beside me and unlike the hall, had humor to it. "What a goal you have." Sarcasm dripping from his voice. I bit back my growl. "They have a Pac-man machine in Walmart near here," he smirked. I could tell the evil little wheels in his head were turning. "I bet you can't bet the high score of that one."

I snorted this time, bringing my confidence out. "Bring it on, Cullen."

"Cocky are we?" He leaned closer to me, my breathing stopped. "Are you a betting women, Miss Swan?" I chewed on my lip and nodded at him. "The man who gained the top slot of that Pac-man is the ultimate champ. Play him this Saturday and we'll see who is best." He smiled at me, seemingly harmless.

"Who is this 'said champ' you speak of, Cullen?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He slid back closer to me, at first I thought he was going to kiss me but he surprised me by placing his lips near my ear. "_Me._"

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	2. Where Did Linkin Park?

**Title – **Asthma Attack.

**Chapter Two – **Where did Linkin Park?

Bella's **point** of _view._

Did I really declare that yes, I will duel Edward on Saturday? I couldn't have said that, right? I don't know the source behind this worry, I don't even know if he is an expert or just lying to impress. That wouldn't be the first time it happened. Even if he is the champ of Pac-man at the local Wal-mart that doesn't mean he is the all time champ; he could have just been the top of all the poor players. I took hope in that.

I was at the local music store, the only one at least that didn't take a two hour drive. My stock of music has gone horribly low since the my mother decided to flea from her location before settling here. I left all but six priceless albums. I did so with deep hatred and pure disgust. I know they would sell them off for profit and that is why angers me the most.

I trudged in the entrance of Rocket Ball Records, squeezing the excess water from my clothes that weren't shielded by my Zebra raincoat. I smiled delightfully at the warmth radiating in the tiny store. It looked like the ones back in Ohio, small but not cramped. The shelves aligned the walls and in the middle was a circle of music boxes with headphones so you can enjoy your favorite tunes. I shrugged out of my raincoat and folded it on my arm, them folded tightly to my stomach.

I searched the familiar genres. _Pop, Hip-Hop, R&B, Soul_...Seeing them all made me feel a warmth of knowing not all things have to change. I knew that besides from the library that this music store would be my safe refugee from the outside world. That brought me comfort. My fingers traced along the binds of the CD albums, naming one song that I knew from that artist in my head. I found the my area. _Rock_. The grin that flooded my face couldn't help but form.

I eagerly grabbed an album from the selection, not caring to see which I choose at random. I traveled to the one of the empty music boxes and tapped the screen, waiting for it to respond. I tapped along, scanning the bar code of the case. The music blasted through the headphones and I clamped them to my head. It was pretty good, I liked the back tones. I glanced down at the case: _The Honorary Title_. I put this on my list of wants.

I continued this act until I got ten albums, including some like: _The Kills, Florence and the Machine _and _Gregory and the Hawk. _I was proud to say the least at my selections and fumbled along the remaining cases. My fingers froze on the new edition of Linkin Park's album. I squealed and stomped my feet silently in joy.

I rushed over to the music box, not caring to bring the case with me because I knew what I was looking for. I shoved the headphones on my head. I jammed on through the entire CD, twice. Once I was content and had enough I strolled back over to where they had the CD waiting. I stopped, noticing a work there: he had a shirt with the logo on the back so I assumed. I admired – without my permission – the dude. He had skinny jeans on and I noticed a beanie hat nested on his head, with pieces of hair sticking out. He was emo, I was guessing. The hair that was expose was reddish but not quite like bronze...

"Edward?" I spoke my wonder. Is it really him?It was in fact Edward. He turned a fraction and I could see his glasses sliding down his nose. His eyes seemed to widen at something but what? Whatever it was made him spin around. He strained a smile at me. "Hi," I said.

"Hey." He looked down at something. My gaze followed his. He had the Linkin Park CD I was going to get in his hand. One thing in common with this boy, I am shocked.

I laughed. "Hey Edward?" I said, still laughing. "Rumors say Honest Abe went to a rap-rock concert. So people are now wondering 'Where did Linkin Park?'?" I snorted at my lame joke I stumbled upon a year ago while purchasing novelty bags.

"That's a real knee-slapper there, Bella," he rolled his eyes at me.

I ignored that. My joke was good and he knows it. I went to pick up the Linkin Park album and found it not to be there. I frowned. _Oh, duh Bella!_ I thought. Edward does work here, he could direct me to more. I smiled and tapped Edward on the should, getting his attention.

"What?" He whined when he turned to me, scowl on action.

"You are suppose to be _polite _to the customer, Edward." I stated, crossing my arms. "Where is the other Linkin Park albums at?"

Something in that made him smirk at me. I don't like that reaction from someone like him.

"Actually, Princess, I have the last one here in my hand." I gasped.

My eyes narrowed at him then relaxed into those irresistible puppy dog eyes. "May I have that copy then?" I forced my voice to sound sweet.

He wasn't giving in apparently because his face shown no effect to my puppy dog eyes. He raised his hand in the air, reaching it to the air. "Come and get it then, Princess."

I huffed and pouted. "I am not five years old, Edward." He smiled in response.

"You want it or not?" He raised his eyebrows in question. I pondered the want for that CD and decided the want won the situation but not in the way he would of liked it.

"I don't want it anymore," I told him and moved closer. "There is something that perhaps I would like even better." I moved closer to him, my face dangerously close to his. I could feel my heart accelerated for some reason. Why did my heart thump so erratically? His hand dropped and no he was staring at my lips that were now closed to his.

I slyly slid my hand to the tip of the CD case and eased it out of his hand, he was a little distracted at the moment to realize I guess. Instead I leaned to whisper in his ear. "Sike." I smirked and through my money on the counter. I quickly made my escape out of the music store and was still giggling as I placed the CD into a tattered CD player and drove away.

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